


Drawn to You

by xKrypton_Bliss



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Café, Drawing, F/M, Fan - Freeform, Reader-Insert, art student, fan x idol, fan x idol interaction, idol, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23504980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xKrypton_Bliss/pseuds/xKrypton_Bliss
Summary: You are an art student drafting a portrait of Wonho at a well-known café.
Relationships: Lee Hoseok | Wonho & Reader, Lee Hoseok | Wonho & You, Lee Hoseok | Wonho/Reader, Lee Hoseok | Wonho/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	Drawn to You

**E V E N I N G //** A Seoul Café  
  
Sitting in a well-known café, you scroll through photos of Wonho on your phone to study his facial expressions and his exact anatomy. Your foot shakes idly now as you have gone past the blushing-in-embarrassment phase to more focused on seeing how the jawline is shaped, the turn of the tip of his nose, where his cheekbones land, and the subtle upturned corners of his mouth. With a nicely weighted and balanced mechanical pencil in hand, you begin to lay down the basic foundations for the three-quarter angle of his head, hoping to capture his essence truly.   
  
You have come so far now as an art student, and this was your last art project for university right before you graduate. You have already been taking commissions here and there, but only so few due to your overwhelming schedule with balancing your part-time job, school, and some sort of semblance of this thing called social life.   
  
After some time had passed, you managed to get a base sketch down along with some shading and details. It is still a little rough, but it has gotten more refined. A stroke of a loose hair here, maybe a shade there. No, it does not look right. You erase with a bit of frustration. You do not realize that the café has emptied quite a bit and it is darkening a little outside.   
  
"Your drawing is wonderful." A woman's voice startled you out of concentration. You snap your head up and see a short older woman carrying a tray with used plates and cups. She smiles sweetly, which seemed a bit familiar in some way to you.   
  
"Oh, uh, thank you!" you stammered, feeling embarrassed someone has actually seen your drawing before it was done, and it was a K-pop idol no less. Your cheeks heat up. "It's still far from being done…" You tuck your hair behind your ear out of nerves and pick up your hot chocolate to sip on.  
  
"I think it's wonderful," she repeated. "You did a great job capturing my son's personality."  
  
You choke on your drink and cough.  
  
"Y-your…"  
  
"Yes," she smiles proudly, her eyes becoming crescents. "Hoseoki is my son."   
  
Your eyes widen in disbelief. That embarrassment that finally ebbed away came back in full force. Now you have to figure out how to explain why out of all people, you decided to draw _her son_ for the final project. You need to figure out why you could have not chosen someone else for this project. Anyone else at all!  
  
She sets the tray down on the table next to you. You look around and see maybe one or two people left in the café. You really did not realize how late it was. She sits down across from you.   
  
"What made you decide to draw him, dear?" she asks softly. "What do you like about him?"  
  
That was a question you dreaded to hear followed by another question you really did not expect. You take a deep breath and explain that the drawing was for a school project that focused on portraits but with a twist of concepts and imaginations. You told her idea of a light and dark concept. Everything has to be hand done and colored for it to be accepted. Right now, you are just going through the first stages of rough drafts.  
  
"That sounds very interesting!" she says with intrigue. "But — " she smiles again and leans in a little closer to you. " — you haven't told me why you like him."  
  
You were hoping you explained in detail too much so she would forget that question. Your cheeks feel warm as you bring the sketchbook close to you. "Uh, I-I — "   
  
A phone rings. Not your ringtone though. She looks down at her apron and finds her smartphone and picks up. "I am so sorry, excuse me — hello?"  
  
You breathe a sigh of relief. Many thoughts race through your mind. _I just met Wonho's mom. I thought her café closed. Is this even her café? Is she working at a different café? Why did I decide the one time I draw someone outside my apartment, it had to be related to someone who works here!_ You shake your head back into reality so you did not want to take any more precious time away from his mother who has so kindly sat down with you and chat, which you totally did not expect.  
  
"Okay, I will see you soon." She hangs up and puts the phone back into the pocket of her apron. "He's on his way!"  
  
"Huh?" you hum in surprise. "I mean — Forgive me — I — who is on his way?"  
  
"My son. He is coming by to visit."  
  
Now is your chance for escape from even more embarrassment.   
  
"Ahh, okay, well…" you begin to collect your belongings. "I don't want to be rude while you wait for your son to arrive — "  
  
"Oh, please! Stay! I insist!" She gives you a look that only Asian mothers do that I wish I could describe. "You won't be bothering us if that is what you're afraid of. I'm always happy to meet any Monbebe and he is too."   
  
Your eyes widen by each word landing in your ear. "A-a-are you _sure_?"   
  
"Yes! Now sit down!" she politely urges.   
  
You did not realize you had gotten up from your seat in your rush to leave. You feel so rude to deny her, so you obey and bow to her in apology. Since you know she would not let up, you begin to explain the qualities of Wonho as you have seen him in variety shows and Vlive: charismatic, selfless, cute, cares very much about other people, making sure no one is left behind, in tune with his emotions… the list was endless. There was so much to list that it felt like you lost track of time. You really wanted to let his mother know how at least one fan of his feels about him so she could feel proud.   
  
For a little while now, you felt this strange sensation that you have been brushing off that someone was nearby you. Now that you have begun to run out of words, the feeling has become stronger. You cautiously eye to the side and slowly turn your head to see a plain grey sweater at your eye level. You look up hesitantly and see an all too familiar face of your bias, beaming down at you — _the_ Wonho himself. Your heart beats painfully against your chest as your eyes widen. _How long has he been there?! Did he hear everything I said? Do I sound crazy? Oh, God, I hope he didn't stand there for too long. Why did she not say anything? Such a sweet lady, she just smiled the whole time with light in her eyes. Ahhh, I should've listened to that gut a long time ago!_   
  
"Hi," he greets sweetly. The upturned corners of his mouth have become much more prevalent with his smile while showing off his pearly whites.   
  
You draw in a shaky breath. Your hands begin to work on attempting at anything to hide your sketch from his eyes, albeit very clumsily. You fumbled with closing the sketchbook, flipping your phone over so the backside is shown — crap, it has his PC in it! You shove it under your arm. Feeling a shift in movement, you see Wonho move next to you and sits down between you and his mother, phone in hand to check the time and sets it down, watching you curiously with a hint of amusement.  
  
“Ah — h-how are you?” you stuttered, with your arm hastily crossed in front of you, resting your chin in your hand.   
  
“I’m doing fine,” he replies with a relieved sigh as he sweeps his hair back with his fingers. “I just got done with dance practice for our comeback.” He smiles again. “How are you doing? What's your name?”   
  
“I-I-I’m doing okay…” You say as you trail off, making sure to cover your face with your hair, looking down. "My name is Y/N…"  
  
"Nice to meet you, Y/Nssi," he beams. "I'm sure you already know who I am, but I am Wonho of Monsta X. I see you have already met my mom." He bows politely.  
  
"Yes, nice to meet you too." You return the bow meekly. You look back up at him to smile politely and notice the beads of sweat glistening along his forehead and the side of his face. A stark contrast against his black hair. You are surprised at how casual he was in front of you, a fan, for this. Does he not know he could kill you in an instant if you let him? (Nah, you were already dead before it started.)   
  
As you become lost in thought on how this is even reality right now, he and his mother chatted away, probably something about their days recently. You are trying not to be rude and listen into the conversation, but the unexpected starstruck really hit hard with you. Normally, if you are prepared to meet someone who is in some ways well-known or famous, you would not be a bumbling mess. Your own personality shines much more brilliantly and naturally. If this was a fansign, you would have ample time to calm down, even before the meet up — at least, that is what you would know from what you have seen on social media. You did not want to treat Wonho like he was on a pedestal or some kind of god. Geez, but this was far too soon and too unexpected! You come back to reality when you realize a hand was waving in your face.   
  
"Are you still there?" Wonho asks.   
  
"Hm?" Your eyebrows quirk. Oh, that is right. Wonho is still there in front of you. _Wonho is still there in front of you!  
  
_ "Did you want to see my arms?" he asks with a chuckle. "You were staring really hard at them."  
  
"Eh?" You spaced out and did not know you were burning a hole through his arms. "A-ah, no! It's okay! I'm okay — "  
  
"Oh…" he slumps in his seat, eyes looking down. "So you don't want to see them…" He looks back up to you with puppy eyes.   
  
Your breath hitched in your throat as you have realized what you said. "N-no! I don't mean that! I mean, like, you don't _have_ to show them to me. _Only_ if _you're_ comfortable."   
  
He laughs. "It's okay. I'm not offended. I knew what you meant." He winks playfully. "It's getting a little hot for me in here anyway, so do you mind if I take off my sweater?"  
  
Your nostrils involuntarily flare and your heart quickens. You shove that thought to the dirt. Now that he has been here for a while, you are trying every way to calm down and treat him like a normal human being. "No, I don't mind."   
  
He smiles and nods. You look away and out the window to the busy street as you hear the shuffling of fabric next to you, chin resting on your hand. You noticed it was just a little too quiet at the table despite his movement.  
  
"Where's your mom?"  
  
He chuckles. "You didn't hear?" He must have realized you were spacing out. "She went back to finish up cleaning and busting the tables."  
  
"Ah…"   
  
"So she was telling me how talented you are at drawing."  
  
"Oh…?"  
  
"And I kind of want to see it for myself."  
  
"Uhh…you sure? I'm not that good…"  
  
"Hey."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Why won't you look at me?"  
  
You freeze. Do you dare mention that your face has been beet red and the mere thought of looking at him in the flesh with no sleeves is just going to kill you?  
  
"I'm embarrassed," you say, settling in that word alone.  
  
You feel him leaning closer to you. "Embarrassed?"  
  
You nod your head.  
  
"Whether your drawing looks good or not, I'll still love it all the same," he assures softly. "It's okay that you drew me."  
  
You close your eyes and sigh. Wanting to get this over with, you slowly turn your body back around and see him in a loosely fitted white tee with his sleeves partially rolled up. His arms are magnificently big, but in their relaxed state, it is not so bad; not as intimidating as you thought. He flashes his pearly whites at you, his eyes disappearing.  
  
"Ah… There's a face I want to see."  
  
You exhale out of your nose in half amusement and relief and give a wry smile. Sure, you are sitting in front of Wonho right now, but you are becoming more relaxed to his presence, arms and all. You slowly unveil your sketchbook and your phone peeks out, his PC in full glory.  
  
"Is that your favorite one of me?" he gestures to the PC.  
  
"Well," you begin, tilting your head to the side as you glance at it. "It's the only one I have of you out of all the albums I have." There is still a part of you that finds talking about all of this weird, especially talking about it _to_ him, but you have to go along with it since he asked.  
  
"Oh, really? Did Minhyuk take over your photos?" he jokes.   
  
"Actually, that's what happened," you laugh. "Almost every album, it's him!" You relax just a little more.  
  
"I'll make sure to scold him for you." He winks.  
  
Gathering the courage, you shuffle out your sketchbook to be in front of you. "So, you wanted to see my drawings?" You glance up at him… in the eyes for those extra courage points.  
  
He nods.  
  
You shift the sketchbook over to him and flip through the pages, whether it was a work in progress or completed. You explain details of each concept drawn and what classes they were for. Sometimes, half of the drawings were for fun as you explained different styles and techniques to hone your personal art skill. You sometimes take a peek at him to see his expression and it seemed deep in concentration with some amounts of awe, indicating to you he was sincerely listening and genuinely interested. Your body loosens up even more.   
  
In between the flipping of pages, Wonho would ask questions about you, like how did you get into traditional art, what type of music do you listen to when you are working, how do you juggle between university and social, work, and home life. At one point, he even asked about your dating life.  
  
"I… don't really have much of one," you state flatly.  
  
"Oh, is that so?" His eyebrows raise in surprise.  
  
"Yeah, too frivolous. It makes me lose concentration on my work. I don't have as much time for it as other students do. It's quite a time investment. They won't understand why art is such a big passion of mine, so they'll just eventually leave me anyways." You look over to Wonho who seems to be baffled, yet sad. "I'm okay. I'm not hurt by this. I've accepted it."  
  
"Not a _single_ soul would understand?"  
  
You chuckle. "Not even one." You flip the page.  
  
It lands on the partially finished portraiture of Wonho. You completely forgot about it and your body tensed up. You begin to slowly pull the sketchbook away from him. "Ahh, this isn't finished — "  
  
He stops you by holding onto the other side of the sketchbook, slowly pulling it back to him. "Oh, no, we're not gonna be shy here."   
  
You are still holding onto it, except it is slowly slipping from your fingers. You feel your grip shaking a little. Meanwhile, you look at Wonho, then down to his grip. Not a single struggle. Not wanting to tear your possession, you sigh.  
  
"Fine." You suddenly let go and the book jerked into his hand. You turn away again with your chin resting in your hand once more.  
  
He chuckles and you feel a gingerly pat on your head. You turn back to him in bewilderment, but he was already looking deep into your drawing. You turn your body slightly towards him to analyze his expression. Does he like it? Does he dislike it? Does he —  
  
"My mom was right. You really did capture me so well…"  
  
"I… I just, you know, uh…" You scratch the back of your head.  
  
"It's really well done. I am kind of jealous of this Wonho because he looks better than me!"  
  
You laugh. "What? No! You've _always_ looked amazing, inside out, no matter what!" _Whoops. That was too much_ , you thought. "Oh, no, I'm sorry, that was frank of me." You shrink into yourself out of embarrassment.  
  
"Hey, it's okay," he says gently. "I like hearing that from Monbebe, because, well, it gives me strength to keep doing what I'm doing." He pauses and lowers his eyes. "I'll admit, even if I look strong like this — " He tenses his muscles. " — I'm not always strong for myself when I need to be — are you okay?!"  
  
"Hm?" You look at him in confusion. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be okay?"  
  
"Your nose is bleeding."  
  
"Oh, is it?" you say nonchalantly. You take a napkin nearby you and wipe the blood off as best as you can. You ball it up without looking. "Okay, so you were saying that we're your source of strength?"  
  
"Does this happen often?" he says, eyebrows furrowed.  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"The nosebleed."  
  
"Oh, no, rarely."  
  
He stiffens and reaches forward to console you, a look of worry etched into his face. "We need to take you to the hospital...!"  
  
"Oh, no, no, no, it's okay. I'm fine. Don't worry about it." You wave your hand dismissively. You know exactly why your nose was bleeding and it happened when he tensed his wonderfully sculpted muscles right before you. Seriously, how is he so casual about this?  
  
"How are you so casual about this?!" Wonho exclaims.   
  
"Shh, it's okay!" you whisper.   
  
You realize you are closer to him than normal, then noticed that your hand was covering his mouth. Your head tingles in panic as you try not to jerk your hand away, but slowly move it off of him as you blush. "I'm sorry." You look up at him in earnest. "But, please, do not worry about me. Tell me about how Monbebe is your source of strength."  
  
"Hoseoki!"   
  
You and Wonho both turn to the source of the voice. His mother looked primed and ready to leave with her tote bag hanging on her shoulder. He gets up and goes to her.  
  
"Is this bag too heavy for you?" he asks, checking the weight of the bag.  
  
"Silly boy, it's fine! Your mom may be old, but she is still strong."   
  
He comes back to the table and you were preparing to leave yourself as that seems to be your cue. Your sketchbook, pencils, erasers and sharpener are all back into their spots in your messenger bag. He picks up the sweater and puts it back on.  
  
"Hey, I'm sorry. I'll have to take my mom home now," he says. You might have heard a lace of sadness in his voice.   
  
"It's alright. It's no worries!" You smile. "You take care of her."  
  
"It was nice meeting you and getting to know you, Y/Nssi."   
  
"It was nice to meet you too, Wonhossi."  
  
A flash of sadness reflected in his eyes. Or did it?  
  
Both of you and his mother said your goodbyes and bowing as you all leave the café. You begin walking in the opposite direction from them, going back to the apartments that are close to the café but also the university too. You immediately reminisce on what just happened in the span of an hour, wondering if you had gone to this café more often and actually stayed longer, would you have met Wonho even sooner? You shake your head. It does not matter now. You were just happy to have met him once and that is that. Not to mention the feedback of the portraiture fueled your eagerness to finish the draft sooner, so you could make a real painting out of it. Especially now that you had a glimpse of him and his personality in the flesh, you could add that depth to your piece.  
  
****

* * *

**  
2 M O N T H S L A T E R** // University Arena  
  
You had finished your graduation ceremony at the university and was walking out to find your friends and family in multiple places. You have been pulled by various friends to have photos together, posing for the cameras or taking selfies that were in abundance. It was very crowded due to having to graduate with 2,100 other graduates as well. You eventually find your family and closest friends and they showered you with bouquets, a beautiful flower crown, and balloons. They all hug you tightly with congratulations and love. Your father pats you on the head and smiles with pride. Your mother holds your hand, not wanting to let go of the child she had raised who has now graduated university. Another round of picture taking and selfies begin with those closest to you.  
  
"Y/N!"  
  
You crane your neck to look for the voice of whomever is calling you, but see no one.   
  
"Y/N!"   
  
This time, it is closer. You look around again, thinking the voice has given you misdirection.   
  
"Y/N."  
  
You turn around and see another male graduate you are familiar with, but more as a classmate.   
  
"Oh, hey, Yoojin! We've finally made it!"  
  
"Yeah, finally!" he exclaims. He clears his throat. "Listen, someone is here looking for you."  
  
"Who?"   
  
"I don't know, but you'll have to follow me."  
  
"Oma, I'll be right back," you call out to your mother.  
  
"Child, where are you going — "  
  
"I'll be right back!"  
  
Your mother huffs but has no choice but to let you go.  
  
"Okay, Yoojin, let's go."  
  
"Take my wrist so we don't get lost."  
  
You oblige.   
  
Both of you are bumping into everyone everywhere you go and it does not get any easier when you run into people who were in the same department as you and wanted pictures. The same goes for him as he was in the science department. As both of you push by, the crowd becomes less and less dense, leaving a few people scattered by the edges. Most of them are families with professional photographers. By this time, you were able to let go of Yoojin's wrist and walk normally.   
  
"I am so sorry I had to drag you out of there," he pants. "But apparently, this person is really eager to see you."  
  
"If they were so eager, I'm surprised they didn't fight the crowd," you chuckle.   
  
You follow him until the pavement meets the grass. There was a walkway that was heading up to one of the gazebos around the front.   
  
"He's waiting for you there."  
  
"You're not coming with me?" you ask, surprised. "What if I get kidnapped?"  
  
"I'm… sure he's harmless, but just in case, I'll wait here."  
  
A thud was felt in your chest. You look to the structure. You cannot really see anyone, but if you squint hard enough, you might make out a silhouette. However, the gazebo's intricate design makes it difficult to see. You begin walking as Yoojin looks on after you. The crowd's noise becomes fainter with every step. The only things you hear now are the birds chirping and the clacking of your heels. As you get closer to the gazebo, you become more hyper-aware of your own heartbeat.  
  
You slow to a stop just about 10 steps shy away from the entrance. You take deep breaths to calm your nerves as you play with the academic stole around your neck. _You can do this. Just get it over with_ , you thought. _If something bad happens, Yoojin is there._ You look back and sure enough, he is still watching you. Gathering your strength, you brusquely walk on and into the entrance.  
  
You look around and find someone sitting on the left side of you all in black with a beautiful and abundant bouquet seemingly slipping slowly out of his hand. His head hangs low and his black cap prevents you from seeing his face. _Is he… sleeping?_ You hesitate to step any closer to him.   
  
"H-hello?" you call out gingerly. "Are you okay…?"  
  
You see the bouquet slipping out of the last finger and you lunge forward to catch it — just in time. In turn, you feel a hand gracing over yours. You snap your head up and slowly, he reveals his face to you. He grins.  
  
"Hi."  
  
You gasp loudly, making sure the next step was not a scream because that would alert Yoojin.   
  
"Wo… Wonho...!" You set the bouquet down on the bench carefully and step back, hands covering your gaping mouth. He pushes himself out of the seat and straightens up. Your eyes cannot stop following him. He takes off his cap as you take on what he was wearing: a tie, dress shirt and skinny fit dress pants complete with a black leather jacket that happens to have a dark red lining on the inside. There also seems to be a subdued color on his dress socks too, matching the inside of his jacket. One thing was different about him. His hair is blond this time, styled like that of Beautiful era. He picks up the bouquet and presents them to you.  
  
"Congratulations, Y/N," he says softly.   
  
You stare at the flowers as he hands them off to you. You close your eyes and inhale their aroma.  
  
"It's so… beautiful," you say breathlessly, looking back up at him. "Why… how come you're here?"  
  
"Ah…" He puts his hands in his pants pockets and looks around. "After that night, I wasn't sure if I wanted to leave you. I really wasn't sure about anything. But there was one thing I was really sure about: it's that I like you."  
  
Your eyes widen. Are your ears deceiving you? You shake your head. "I'm sorry, you — ?"  
  
"I do like you, Y/N," Wonho states. "If — " He lowers his gaze to the ground. "If you're okay with that."   
  
Silence falls on the both of you. You have become speechless, awestruck even. This was someone who was your bias for so long, and to stand here, in front of you, admitting to you that he, an idol, likes you… you pinch yourself. You look at him and see he is chewing on his lips nervously. He must have been thinking about this.   
  
"I…" you begin.  
  
His eyes snap to yours in earnest, eager to listen to anything you have to say.  
  
"I am a fan," you declare. "You… are an idol. Is _this_ going to be okay?"  
  
"If they have anything to say… I will shut them down. I have done so before. I won't hesitate again." His eyes flashed ice cold for just a split second before returning to the warmth it held.  
  
You look between his eyes in bewilderment. He seems very sure of this. He does not seem swayed by any future problems it might hold. He steps closer to you and begins playing with your softly curled hair. He smiles warmly.  
  
"So, now that you have more time, and I hope it still isn't so frivolous to you," he begins. "Will you go out with me?"  
  


* * *

**  
W O N H O ' S P E R S P E C T I V E** // Leaving the Café

As he and his mother walk away from the café, Wonho turns his head around to see her, only to find she is no longer there. He sighs with some amount of regret that he had no way of contact with you at all.  
  
"Hoseoki, it looks like you were having a lot of fun with that girl," his mother comments.  
  
"I have fun with any and all Monbebe, Oma."  
  
"Yes, but not as much fun as with her."  
  
He shrugs lightly.  
  
"My son, your mom may have bad eyesight, but she can see how much you like her," she says in a serious tone, eyeing her boy. "You know you won't be an idol forever, so sooner or later, you will have to settle down, get married with a good wife, and maybe have some grandchildren for me."  
  
"Oma!" Wonho's eyes widened in shock. "This is too much too soon!"  
  
His mother laughs heartily. "But make sure she is a right fit for you too. Oma doesn't want you to rush either. Oma only wants you to be happy." She pauses. "She seems like a very lovely girl, who is passionate and isn't afraid to pursue what she wants. She is in some ways like you, but has her own charms."  
  
"H-how do you know all this?" he asks. "It's only for an hour and it seems you know more than I do."  
  
"Oma always knows more." She smiles as she rubs her son's back. "Try to reach out to her again."  
  
He sighs in defeat. He realizes she is right. He does like her passion and the dedication she has to her craft, which he can relate to when it comes to his music and fashion. Nothing can hold their creativity back and that gave him a spark. To him, she is grounded in her goals and aspirations, just as he was. He wants to know more about her. He hopes he can.  
  


* * *

  
Throughout the rest of the month, Wonho came by the café more often than not to see if she was there in the evening, working away on her project. Unfortunately, to his dismay, anytime he was there, she was nowhere to be found. He tried to appear sometimes in the morning or afternoon as long as his schedule allows, but she was not there either.   
  
His hopelessness grew, and his regret and guilt became stronger as he fell into his bed in the Monsta X's dorm. In the moment of his last drop of desperation, it hit him. He remembers that the portrait of him was her final project. _Final_ project. Her _graduation_ project. He shoots up out of bed to find his phone on the charger. He looks up the university website near the café and scrolls through to find the graduation date. He checks it against his schedule to see if he is able to attend.  
  
He grins.

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been cross-posted on my newly made tumblr: hangukincharms.tumblr.com


End file.
